


It Was Always You

by medvhm



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medvhm/pseuds/medvhm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, he'd just walk her to her door. Then, he started to kiss her cheek as he said goodnight, then her lips. Small pecks she felt all the way to her toes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is smut. RPF smut. Please so not read if that sort of thing offends you. This is what happens when I'm home all day and thinking about how much I want Norman and Emily to get together.

She tightens her arms around his waist as the bike speeds up, presses her face into his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles shifting as he changes gear. At a stop light, he puts his feet down and puts one hand over hers on his stomach, then turns his head to smirk at her. She smiles back at him, proud to be riding on the back of his motorcycle. It's become a common occurrence, him taking her home at the end of the day. Lauren and Andy smirk and tease when he pulls up outside her trailer and she hops on without a word but she doesn't care. This is her favorite part of the day.

"You coming in?" she asks as he comes to a stop outside her apartment complex.

"Yeah," he says. He always does.

At first, he'd just walk her to her door. Then, he started to kiss her cheek as he said goodnight, then her lips. Small pecks she felt all the way to her toes. Now he comes in, lets her make him a cup of coffee, and waits for her to join him on the couch. She sits close, letting her entire side press against him, letting his arm wrap around her shoulder. Sometimes they watch TV but mostly they just talk. She felt like he knew her better than anyone by now. He's even shared sordid stories from his past, swearing her to secrecy.

His attention was flattering to say the least. She was under no illusions, she knows she isn't the most beautiful or has the best body. So she wonders sometimes why he chooses to spend his nights with her when he can have anyone. She tries to tell herself that they're just friends, that she shouldn't let herself fall for him. But looking at his handsome face and piercing blue eyes, she knows she has and hard.

Tonight, though, tonight is different. There's something else in those blue eyes when he looks at her, something mischievous.

She's in the kitchen, stirring the proper amount of sugar into his coffee, when she feels him come up behind her and wrap his arms around her tiny waist. She smiles and leans her head back against his shoulder. Then she feels his lips run up her neck and his arms tighten. The spoon clatters onto the counter as she drops it to bring her hands up to his neck, holding him in place.

She's shocked by his brazen actions and incredibly turned on at the same time. She's hoped for this but the reality is almost more than she could handle. He smells so good and his strong chest pressed up against her delicate back makes her feel like she is at his mercy. A soft moan escapes her mouth as he replaces his lips with his tongue, trailing it from her pulse point to her ear.

"Nor-man," her voices hitches, breathy and low and she barely recognizes it as her own. He takes this as the encouragement that she meant it to be and quickly spins her around before slamming his mouth down on hers.

She's never been kissed so thoroughly before. His tongue sweeps into her mouth and she tries her best to keep up but he's making her head spin and knees buckle. He is ridiculously too good at this. He tastes of smoke and a hint of spice.

He pulls back but only to resume his worship of her neck. She knows she panting, she can hear her heartbeat and feels that pull low in her belly, feels her underwear dampen.

"Emmy," he whispers, "is this okay?"

She can only nod enthusiastically. He fits his lips against his again, stealing the breath from her lungs and part of her soul. His hands slid down over her ribs, her hips, gripping her bottom and hoisting her up. She wraps her long legs around his waist as he begins to walk back to her bedroom.

He gently lays her down and covers her body with his. He feels so large on top of her but it makes her feel safe. His forearms are on either side head, his strong hands cradling her head, holding in place for his plundering. But then his hands are wandering her body, burning her skin, branding her as his. She can't help but run her hands under his shirt to feel the warm flesh of his back. His mouth never leaves hers, his tongue exploring, his hands coming up to cup her small breasts through her shirt. She hears herself moan and her nipples harden immediately under his master strokes.

He pulls back abruptly, whipping his own shirt over his head. She only has a few brief seconds to appreciate the view before he's pulling her own shirt up and off. She immediately feels inadequate and her arms come up involuntarily to cover her breasts.

"Don't," he says, pulling her arms away, "you're beautiful." He knows her insecurities and knows exactly how to put her at ease. He wastes little time, his tongue circling her nipple, then sucking it fully into his mouth. She weaves her fingers into his long hair to keep him there, arching her back when he bites softly. She can feel his hardness against her hip as he grinds down against her, he pays equal attention to her other breast before slipping lower, dipping his tongue into her belly button.

He stands again and stares down at her, his eyes drinking her in and instead of making her self conscious, it makes her feel wanted and sexy. Things seem to speed up all of a sudden as he's pulling her pants off leaving her in just a tiny scrap of lace. She sits up, kissing his stomach and pulling his belt loose, his zipper down, letting his pants fall, then pushing his boxers down too. His large hard member springs into her hands. He's huge and she's suddenly very nervous. She glances up at him shyly.

"What?" he asks.

"You're big," she answers, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"Isn't that a good thing?" he smirks.

"Yes," she hesitates, "it's just been a while for me..."

"We'll go slow," he cuts her off and cups her cheek, "we'll go slow all night long if you want."

She feels everything inside her tighten in response to his words, feels the answering flood between her legs. She's never wanted anyone the way she wants him. There is a small voice in her head that tells her he'll be able to fill her the way no man ever has or ever will. The knowledge makes her bold. She wraps her tiny hand around him, sliding it down and back up adding slightly more pressure with each pass until he's throwing his head back and letting his eyes drift shut. She's never felt so powerful.

"Fuck," he groans, pushing her back down on the bed and pulling her underwear off.

Everything seems to slow down again, she feels him part her thighs and she sees him lick his lips and eye her like prey. Then it all speeds back up again and before she can process his intent, his tongue is delving between her folds making her cry out loudly.

"Oooh," she whimpers, wiggling uncontrollably again him. His hand comes up to her stomach, pushing back down, holding her still.

"Don't move," he orders, "I'm gonna make you come on my tongue."

She has no choice but to obey because he's sucking her clit into his mouth and slipping a finger inside of her, curling it up, seeking that spot that'll make her scream and see stars. Her eyes roll back and her head falls back, one hand in his hair, pulling, one hand gripping the sheets. It's too good, he's too good at it, and within minutes she finds her release. She does exactly what he said, comes hard on his tongue, chanting his name.

He pulls back, a self satisfied grin on his gorgeous face, he makes a show of licking her juices off his lips before sticking his fingers in his mouth, sucking them.

"God, you taste even better than I thought you would," he says.

Something inside her snaps at his words, she simply can't wait anymore. She pulls him up roughly, kissing him with everything she has, trying to convey how he makes her feel and how much she wants him. She can taste a trace of herself in his tongue and she moans.

"Please Norman, now," she begs.

"Slow remember?" he teases before trying to pull back.

"No," she panics and clutches him tighter.

"Condom," he mumbles.

"I'm on the pill," she says, "please, I need to feel you.

He doesn't question her. He locks eyes with her and slowly begins to enter her. He feels impossibly large inside her. It takes a few patient, shallow thrusts before he's buried fully inside her. He pauses, letting her small body adjust around him. It feels amazing, the sweet pressure, the velvet hardness filling every available space inside it. She takes a moment to just process what is happening. He's inside her, making love to her. Her.

"Emmy," he pants out, "I have to move."

"Yes, please."

She kisses him, feeding him her tongue, tangling it with his as his hips pulls back slightly before pushing back in. She wraps her legs back around him, arching up to meet every thrust. Her hands curl around the chiseled biceps beside her head. She can feel a fine trembling in them and she knows he's trying desperately to hold back, he doesn't want to hurt her. It only makes her love him more. He's moving in and put of her with ease now.

"Norman," his name tumbles from her lips, "more."

He growls and complies, moving her legs higher up around his ribs, changing the angle, hitting deeper. He laces his fingers with hers, bringing their hands above their heads. His full weight is on top of her, she can do little in this position but let him take her, but it seems to be what they both need. He hasn't stopped kissing her.

"You're so tight," he whispers in her ear, "you feel so fucking good, baby."

She can't help but cry out at his words, she can tell she's going to come soon but she doesn't want him to stop. Ever.

"I've wanted you like this for so long," he continues, "underneath me. You're all I can fucking think about."

"Norman," she's sobbing now. His words and his perfect rhythm have her about to explode. "Don't stop, please don't ever stop."

He growls again and picks up the pace. He releases her hands so he can tangle one of his in her hair and one slides down, over her throat, collarbone, breast, ribs, waist and hip before stopping on her ass and squeezing. He buries his face in her neck. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, down his back, landing on his firm behind.

It's all becoming too much, it's coming, she's coming before she even realizes it, screaming his name. Her orgasm is hard and long, but he keeps up his pace, hitting her even harder now than before, but it's not rough, he's still making love to her, she just never knew it could be so intense. She squeezes her inner muscles around him, desperate to make him feel as good as he is making her feel.

"I want to feel you come inside me," she says, tapping into some brave place she didn't know she had.

She feels his rhythm falter, feels his strokes become wild at her words before he stiffens and starts to come.

"Emily, fuck, Emily!"

The sound of her full name and the feel of his release shooting deep inside her causes another small orgasm to wrack her body. She's left a boneless mass under him, she feels weightless and thoroughly spent. When she opens her eyes, he's staring down at her with at look of wonder, then he's cupping her chin and kissing her. It's slow and languid and perfect. There's so much she wants to say to him, like how amazing that was and how much she loves him but for some reason her lips and tongue won't form the words.

He rolls off her, but immediately pulls her close, wrapping both arms around her and letting their legs tangle with each other and the sheets. She lays her head on his chest, right next to his tattoo and basks in the sense of how right it feels to have him in her bed. Before she can stop it, a yawn escapes.

"Sorry," she giggles.

"It's okay, go to sleep," he says, "I'll be here when you wake up."


	2. Intense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows he's never wanted a women the way he wants her. Now that he's had a taste he knows he'll never fully be satisfied. Tonight is just the beginning.

He wakes up, momentarily confused, then he feels her. Her tiny, soft body pressed up against him. They'd shifted in their sleep, now her smooth back was pressed up against his chest. Her perfect bottom cradled in the hollow his hips made.

Her breathing is deep and even, so he knows she's still sound asleep. He takes the liberty of running his hands over her skin, from her shoulder blades, to the small of back, down to her ass. He'd always been an ass man and she didn't disappoint. He lets his hands roam to the front of her thighs as he feels himself harden. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent, amazed at how she's so tiny and yet she fits against him perfectly.

"Norman," whispers, husky, still somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

He moves his hands up to cup her breasts and she arches into him. He needs her again, even though it's only been a few hours, he needs to be deep inside her. He's never needed anyone the way he needs her. She'd manage to get under his skin, into his bloodstream without even trying. She had no idea the hold she had over him. He remembers the way she'd just made love to him without inhibition, how beautiful she was when she climaxed, screaming his name. Now that he'd had a taste, there was no going back.

He pinches her nipple then rolls it between his thumb and index finger. She moans, fully awake now, ad grinds her ass onto his crotch like a tigress in heat. It was his turn to moan.

"Emily," he breathes out.

She grabs his hand, slides it along her belly down to her center, letting him feel how wet she is.

"Fuck, you're dripping, baby," he growls, feeling a primitive masculine pride that she wants him that much, that he can turn her on so easily. "Is that for me?", he asks, knowing the answer. But her reply shocks him.

"Yes," she whines, "always."

His eyes close at her words and he slides two fingers into her, she immediately clenches around them and he feels more wetness drip down his wrist. There's a kind of urgency about this that wasn't there just a few hours ago. He feels the need to just ram into her like an animal, to take her without mercy. But he holds back, he doesn't want to scare her. They'll be time for that later.

But right now, her tiny hand reaches behind her to grasp him, she uses the same rhythm he is between her thighs. His eyes cross, he needs to be inside her. Now. He hopes she's ready to take him, but he doesn't need to worry.

"Now, Norman, do it now," she begs.

And he does, he lifts her leg slightly and pushes into her, all the way to the hilt. He moans loud and she lets loose a sigh that sounds like relief. The angle is different but the friction is almost enough to make him come. But he can't, not yet, he's got plans. He gently pushes her upper body away while pulling her hips tighter into him, lifting her leg more for better access, more room to move.

He starts slow, but she'll have none of it. She's pushing back against him impatiently, wantonly. He smiles, he appreciates her eagerness, her need matching his. He'd known they'd be good together, but this was beyond his imagination.

"Harder," she whimpers.

He complies, pulling back to slam into her, enjoying the sounds she makes. He pulls her back to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and chest, his fingers skimming her nipples. She throws her head back on his shoulder, her mouth open, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. He burns the image into his memory.

"Feel good?" he asks. She only nods. "Tell me," he says, "tell me how good it feels." He moves a hand down between them, to place where their bodies meet, the place where he owns her, rubbing her clit.

"It feels so good," she keens, "so fucking good."

That dirty word out of her mouth makes him growl into her ear, and he picks up the pace. He's desperate to make her come around him. She's so wet, he can hear the noise it makes everything times he thrust back in.

"Tell me what you want," he commands.

"Just you," she says. If wasn't already in love with her, he would be now.

He brings his slick fingers up to her chin, roughly turning her head to kiss her. He invades her mouth, bruising her lips, and she makes tiny sounds of approval in the back of her throat. Then he feels it, her inner muscles contract around him, she's coming but he doesn't release her mouth or his hold on her.

He rolls them, so she's flat on her stomach, he drapes his much larger frame over her. He slams his hips down against her ass hard, loving the sound the slapping skin makes. He knows he's out of control and in the back of his mind, it occurs to him he might be hurting her. But she's moaning and calling out so he knows she's with him.

Sweat is streaming down his back, her hair sticking to her forehead, and he can't help but pick up the pace again, impossibly. She's achingly beautiful. He's close to coming, but he wants to feel her fall one more time.

He bites into her shoulder and she cries out.

"I'm close," she moans.

"I want to hear you," he says, "I want to hear you scream my name. I want your neighbors to know it's me fucking you this good."

That does it. She comes hard, screaming out his name, just like he told her.

"NORMAN!!!"

He smirks with satisfaction, his face buried in her shoulder and lets her milk his orgasm out of him.

"Holy shit, Emily," he groans, his hips still humping against her uncontrollably.

He collapses on top of her, gasping for air, his weight pressing her into the mattress. He realizes he must be crushing her and rolls over to his side, pulling her into arms, craving her closeness. The smell of sex hangs heavy in the air. He can't keep his hands still, running them over her flesh.

"Are you okay?" he questions, "I didn't mean to be so rough."

"Are you kidding?" she looks up at him, smiling, "that was amazing. You're amazing."

"Yeah?" He's suddenly shy but he can't help but match her huge smile.

"I've never come so hard in my life," she confesses.

She falls back to sleep almost immediately, but he lays there just basking in her presence. The moonlight filtering into the room makes her look ethereal. He takes in her small pink lips, her full cheeks and her flawless skin, a blonde wisp falling across her forehead. His heart swells with an emotion he's positive is love. He knows he's never wanted a women the way he wants her. Now that he's had a taste he knows he'll never fully be satisfied. Tonight is just the beginning.


	3. In the Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wants to just blurt it out, but she can't, but she can show him. She can make love to him with every bit of passion he'd made love to her with last night.

She wakes up wrapped in a pair of strong arms. She smiles, the memory of last night, knowing it's him behind her, making her happy. Happier maybe than she's ever been. She knows she's never felt so thoroughly loved. She shifts slightly and feels a soreness between her legs, the delicious ache of muscles that hadn't had a workout in a while.

She rolls over to look at him, she runs her fingers lightly across his features, brushing the dark hair off his forehead, skimming down his nose and over his sculpted cheekbones. He's peaceful when he sleeps, even more handsome that he always is. It takes her breathe away and she feels her heart contract with the knowledge that she loves him more than anything in the world. She wants to wake him up to tell him, but something stops her. She's too afraid of his reply. She's been hurt too much too many times so she'll do this at his pace. Whatever this is.

Suddenly, his eyes flutter open and meet hers. A large smile spreads across his face and she finds herself snuggling closer to him.

"Good morning," he says, his hand cupping her cheek.

"Good morning," she answers, blushing and ducking her head.

"What? Now you're shy?" he teases, pulling her chin up. She can only shrug, she's too afraid he'll simply roll over, gather his clothes and just leave. Taking her heart with him.

"Last night," he starts, serious now, "was incredible."

Her eyes widen at his confession.

"It's never been like that for me, ever," he continues, "I want you to know that."

"Norm-"

"Let me finish," he interrupts, "before I lose my nerve." She nods, waiting for his words, needing them.

"This isn't some one time thing for me, Emmy. I want to be with you, like this, all the time."

She feels tears prick her eyes, it's not an 'I love you', but she'll take it.

"Please tell me those are happy tears, please," he pleads.

Again, she can only nod. She doesn't know what to say, she wants to just blurt it out, but she can't, but she can show him. She can make love to him with every bit of passion he'd made love to her with last night. She can try to give him the same pleasure he'd given her. She slowly climbs over him, straddling his hips. His hands are immediately on her hips, digging into her, grinding her onto his growing hardness.

She slowly leans down to kiss him, she keeps it slow, unhurried and deep, their tongues battling for dominance. He lets her win, sensing it's what she needs. Her lips break away from his to trail across his chin and neck, stopping to suck lightly on his pulse. His skin is slightly salty and delicious but she doesn't linger. She moves farther down, brushing her lips over his collarbone, down his chest, taking his nipple in her mouth a biting softly. She wants to worship his body, make him go crazy under her lips and hands, so he never forgets this. Never forgets her.

He can't keep his hands from roaming her smooth, soft skin. When she bites down on his nipple, he jumps a little, not expecting the pleasure that shoots through his veins. She moves lower, peppering small kisses down his torso and her intentions become clear. He barely has time to register it though before she feels her lips graze him. He's dreamed of this, fantasized about her hot little mouth around him and it's almost too much to take.

She takes him fully into her mouth, sucking, finding the combination of rhythm and pressure that makes him moan. He raises his head to chance a peak at her, weaving his hands into her tangled blonde mess. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back down onto the pillow, letting the sensations take over. She's really good at this and he's momentarily jealous of any man that's come before him. He chances another look down at her and meets her gaze. He battles the need to move his hips, to grab her hard by the hair and finish in her mouth. But the willpower is taking it's toll, sweat breaks out on his forehead and his moans and whimpers are all running into each other. He feels the tightness in his balls, his impending orgasm coming fast and hard, but he wants to be inside when he comes.

"Emily...I'm gonna...," he barely recognizes his own voice.

She abruptly pulls away when she feels him start to twerk. She wants to feel him come inside her. She moves over him quickly, positioning herself and sliding down. They both groan at the feeling of becoming one again. She moves slowly on him, setting a steady pace meant to drive him wild. He feels much larger inside her in the position, and every down stroke of her hips makes it harder and harder to go slow. His hands on her hips help guide her and she sees him bite his lower lip and smiles. The vision he creates is heady and makes her feel powerful.

He opens his eyes right as she throws her head back, her long hair brushing his thighs. His hands come up to her breast, squeezing them, causing her to pick up the pace.

"Norman," she whines, "you feel so big, so good."

He can see her whole body in morning sunlight, sees her arching her back. The view is spectacular. Sweet, innocent, unassuming Emily, riding him with all she has. He sits up quickly, wrapping his arms completely around her, crushing her tiny body to him. His large hands take up almost the entire expanse of her back. She weaves her hands through his messy hair, his forehead resting on her chest above her breasts. Her hips move gracefully on his and he wraps his long fingers around her waist, helping her move faster. He can tell from the fine trembling of her thighs that she's close. He wants to watch her face when she crashes. He pulls his head back, weaves one hand through her hand to make her look at him.

"Emily, look at me," he says. But she doesn't right away. "Open your eyes," he growls.

When she obeys, he's staring back at her. His piercing gaze won't let her look away.

"I want to see your face when you come," he says, maintaining the eye contact. "Come around me."

She cries out at his words, letting them swirl around her and take her to the brink.

"Let go," he orders.

She shatters into a million tiny pieces, so small she'll never be able to find them all, never be whole again. He never breaks eye contact with her and she feels him reach his orgasm seconds later.

He takes her lips in soft kiss as the fall backwards onto the bed, he wraps his arms around her tight so can't move away yet. It takes minutes before they can find their breath and she realizes she never wants to leave this bed, this cocoon they'd made for themselves in this room, in her bed.

"Wow," he finally says.

"Yeah," she agrees. "I always wondered if you were good in bed."

"So you have thought about me," he says, picking up on her accidental confession. His tone is light and teasing but when he looks at her, her expression is serious.

"I have. I do. I just never thought in a million years you'd ever look twice at me. Not when you can have anyone you want," she says, letting some of her insecurities show.

"You don't have any idea how beautiful you are do you?" he asks but doesn't give her time to answer. "But you are, inside and out. I've always thought so, but these last few months..." he trails off. "If I can have anyone I want, then I want you. Can I have you Emily?"

She's knows she must be looking at him like he's crazy because there's no way that some small town girl from Nebraska like her could make a man like him say such things.

"Yes," she finally whispers. Forever, she thinks to herself.

"Good," he laughs, "I'm kinda already attached to you." He dives for her neck and places sloppy, noisy, playful kisses there, while attempting to tickle her.

"No, Norman, no," she laughs, "no, stop it." She tries to push his hands away but he's too strong and she can barely breath from laughing so hard. "Stop or I'm gonna pee."

Her hollow threat works and he relents.

"Do you have anything planned for today?" he asks.

"Nothing I can't be persuaded to cancel, why?"

"There's somewhere I want to take you," he answers. "I think you'll like it."

"Can we take your bike?" The prospect of another ride on his bike excites her.


End file.
